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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24973462">Someone Like You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryptographic_Delurk/pseuds/Cryptographic_Delurk'>Cryptographic_Delurk</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Even-More-Past Male Warden/Morrigan, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Multi, Past Male Warden/Zevran, Post-Dragon Age: Origins, Warden (Dragon Age) Dies, betrayal of a sort, flirting and shoe shopping kind of fluffy, this is oddly fluffy tbh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:53:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,299</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24973462</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryptographic_Delurk/pseuds/Cryptographic_Delurk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Leliana runs into Morrigan and her son five years after the Battle of Denerim, it provides some insight into the circumstances behind the Hero of Ferelden’s death.</p><p>For Zevran, this changes nothing. But perhaps it’s been time for a change anyhow.<br/><br/></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Zevran Arainai/Leliana</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Someone Like You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>You know when you romance Zevran and then sacrifice yourself fighting the Archdemon and then he never loves again?<br/>Yeah, that makes me sad. Here’s some blatant fix-it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">“I just thought you might like to know.” Leliana’s voice was soft and apologetic, like rain.</p><p class="western">Zevran did his best to ignore it. They had had a marvellous day. Old friends, new shoes, fine wine, political intrigue, and a beautiful woman as companionship. He had no wish to ruin it by inviting old ghosts.</p><p class="western">“Oh, it does put me in something of a better mood,” Zevran swirled the wine in his glass as he gazed over the canal. “Our dear Morrigan, a bona fide Madonna. Do you not think there something terribly<em> alluring</em> about young mothers, imagining a baby at her bosom? And it was such a lovely bosom.” Zevran smirked. “Though nothing on yours, of course. I believe you may be able to give our darling Wynne a run for her money.”</p><p class="western">“Zevran,” Leliana warned. “And he is less a baby at this point, and more a fussy troublemaking toddler.”</p><p class="western">“Indeed, I believe I was already running about and breaking hearts at his age,” Zevran sighed dramatically.</p><p class="western">“You know this is not why I told you this,” Leliana said.</p><p class="western">“Oh, I know, I know,” Zevran laughed. “It is quite terrible. And terribly funny. He did not give her the child she wanted, but she ended up with one anyhow. Our beautiful sorceress must feel terribly scorned and cheated. It is good to know I am not the one he left worse off.” And then Zevran frowned, because he had not meant to say something so raw and bitter. It had only slipped out. He reached for an almond tart to cover it up.</p><p class="western">“I only thought it might give you a different perspective.”</p><p class="western">“And what would I need that for?” Zevran asked. He leaned his head in his hand and fixed a smouldering gaze up at Leliana’s lip. “The view is quite nice from this perspective, I assure you.”</p><p class="western">“It has been five years, Zevran,” Leliana frowned. “You made fun of me for two.”</p><p class="western">“I wouldn’t know what you mean, my dear,” Zevran deflected.</p><p class="western">“Unless you are not all talk.” Leliana grabbed the hand out from under his chin so quickly, Zevran almost fell face first into the table. She fixed him with her own look, as she kissed the back of his palm, and then licked up his thumb.</p><p class="western">Zevran felt the way his face flushed and winced at it. “I’m afraid I’ll have to… decline the invitation.” He tugged his hand away. “As lovely as you are, my dear.”</p><p class="western">“That’s what I thought,” Leliana said. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned cosily back into her seat.</p><p class="western">A man was moving through the street, refilling the oil in the lanterns and setting them alight. It threw the front of the café into a romantic rosy glow.</p><p class="western">“Though I must compliment you, Leliana,” Zevran attempted to recover the moment. “You have changed a great deal. There was a time you would scarcely contemplate a tryst with me. Your head was filled with all these nasty little rumours about elves.”</p><p class="western">“You have changed a lot too. Perhaps that is why I am contemplating it.”</p><p class="western">Zevran was not sure. He did not consider himself so sombre a character as everyone was making him out to be, but perhaps he was. How else would you describe a man that went around killing his former comrades-in-arms, lovers, mentors? Farewell, House Arainai, may you end with me.</p><p class="western">“I suppose I never apologised for harassing you your years in cloistered celibacy.” And then before he could be mistaken for someone thoughtful, Zevran smirked. “Not that I intend to apologise now.”</p><p class="western">Leliana did not seem fooled. “I suppose I must have sounded very self-absorbed. It was easier to use Faith as an excuse, than to admit I was afraid to be close to someone after having been so wrong about Marjolaine.” Leliana took a sip of her wine and smiled wryly. “That is why I thought Morrigan’s story important. The Warden’s death was not some divine accident meant to punish you. For better or for worse, it was something he chose when there were other options. If you thought him someone that would have chosen differently, you were wrong about someone you loved too.”</p><p class="western">And he’d been wrong about Taliesin, too. He'd been right about Rinna, until he’d let himself be convinced she betrayed him. And even further back, he’d been wrong about that mage woman that became his second mark. He’d been wrong about the aunties who had raised him, thinking that they would coddle him forever and the time he’d be sold as commodity to the Crows would never come.</p><p class="western">“I hesitate to compare our dearest Grey Warden with your ex,” Zevran said. But Leliana seemed determined to get him to talk about this and, oddly, Zevran found himself giving in without a fight. “He spoke so little about himself, the things he had been through. Not that I’ve ever been a good listener. But-” Zevran cleared his throat and started again. “Right and wrong, honour and glory – they all mean very little once you are dead, once someone you would hold close to you is dead. An assassin knows these things. He was so at ease with who I was, and what I was, the things I had done. And there is little I would not have done, to keep us together.”</p><p class="western">
  <em>Forget about this dark ritual of Morrigan’s. If it came down to it, I would have stabbed Alistair in the back.</em>
</p><p class="western">“I thought we were of the same mind,” Zevran said far more tactfully.</p><p class="western">Leliana was looking at him a little too sympathetically.</p><p class="western">Zevran hastened to ruin it. “Although, turning down a night with such a goddess as Morrigan- I am not sure I would have had the strength to resist such a temptation simply for its own pleasures. Demonic ritual or no.”</p><p class="western">Leliana snorted. “You are all talk, Zevran. Try accepting someone’s proposition before you pull a line like that.”</p><p class="western">“Someone like you?” Zevran smiled. He stretched out his legs under the table, and knocked his boots playfully against Leliana’s. They were both wearing new pairs. Snappy and pungent black leather. Firm heels. Leliana’s had come with square toes and blue satin bows.</p><p class="western">“If you like,” Leliana agreed, turning a shoe to hook it behind his right heel. “You deserve to be happy, Zevran. We both do. There is no harm in trying.”</p><p class="western">“And what would the Divine Mother say?” Zevran teased. “I’ve heard you’re climbing the ranks of Chantry hierarchy quite skilfully. Have you still avoided promising your chastity to the Maker? You will make him a very jealous husband.”</p><p class="western">Leliana snorted. “Andraste herself was married when the Maker sought her out. The reason the Chantry will not permit members of the clergy to marry is because they don’t want to pay for their spouses and children to be fed. It has nothing to do with the will of the Maker.”</p><p class="western">“Ah, you have become so political and devious,” Zevran complimented.</p><p class="western">“You have no more objections then?”</p><p class="western">“Not quite. I can’t have you thinking I’m such a loose and cheap date,” Zevran scoffed in mock offence. “You’ll have to invite me to one of your fancy masked parties in Val Royeaux before I let you try anything. It sounds such a marvellous place to host an assassination.”</p><p class="western">“If you insist,” Leliana laughed. “Even if nothing comes of it, I am sure it would be a memorable event.”</p><p class="western">It was a definite maybe, Zevran thought. But perhaps Leliana was right. There was no harm in trying.</p><p class="western">When he leaned over the table to press a soft kiss to her lips, he managed to knock over a wine glass and plant his elbow directly in the plate of tarts. He was, after all, terribly out of practice.</p><p class="western"> </p>
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